


What John Watson Knows

by yarnjunkie



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Military Kink, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 01:02:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1838683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yarnjunkie/pseuds/yarnjunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many things about Sherlock Holmes that only John Watson knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What John Watson Knows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lookupkate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookupkate/gifts).



> For the most wonderful girlfriend, Kate, who asked for praisekink!Sherlock. What my baby wants, she gets.

There are many things about Sherlock Holmes that only John Watson knows. John knows that if you cut food into bite-sized pieces and leave it nearby, Sherlock will eat it without even realizing it’s there. He knows that Sherlock _doesn’t_ eat (or sleep) at all for at least two days after cases that involve children. He also knows that every once in a while Sherlock softly smiles when he sees Mycroft’s name on his caller ID, but the smile quickly fades and he pretends to be annoyed at his ‘bloody nosey brother’. However, John’s favorite piece of secret knowledge about his flatmate turned boyfriend was much sexier. 

Sherlock Holmes- the great consulting detective, the man who didn’t care what anyone thought of him- had a praise kink. It thrilled John to no end. He could use Sherlock’s kink to get the detective to do almost anything. And, If it almost always ended with John balls-deep in Sherlock’s plush arse, neither man was going to complain about that. 

John’s time in the army had turned him into a light sleeper. This wasn’t great considering that his current bed partner was a restless sleeper at the best of times. Sherlock fidgeted in his sleep almost as much as he did when he was awake. He was also very clingy. John actually loved that. He didn’t mind being woken up several times a night if it meant that Sherlock was pulling him closer, clinging tighter, or nuzzling into John’s neck. 

This particular morning, John was jolted awake when Sherlock kicked him in the shin. John groaned and looked at the clock. It was only 7:15. He’d hoped to have a decent lie-in since he had the day off from the clinic. Now that he was awake, he was fairly sure he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. He also desperately needed to piss.

He tried to remove himself from Sherlock’s arms, but Sherlock grumbled and tightened his grip on the doctor. 

John chuckled and kissed Sherlock’s unruly mop of curls.

“Sherlock, I need you to let me up, love. I need to go to the loo.”

The younger man huffed, released his grip, rolled onto his belly and buried his face in the pillows. 

John smiled as he got up and shuffled to the bathroom. As he emptied his bladder, he looked around and realized the room was a mess. He’d never realized two men sharing a single bathroom could result in such untidiness. The counter was cluttered with tubes of toothpaste and deodorant, cans of shaving cream, and Sherlock’s hair products. It seemed a certain skinny prat had ‘forgotten’ the rule about not leaving towels in the floor too. 

He sighed as he walked into the kitchen and saw it needed cleaned as well. He could see the living room wasn’t any better. There was nothing for it. He was going to have to spend the day cleaning the flat.

“Looks like my relaxing day off isn’t going to be relaxing after all,” he muttered as he went to fill the kettle. 

John went back to the bedroom and slid into an old pair of jeans and a jumper. He didn’t even try to wake Sherlock up for breakfast. It wasn’t worth the fight or the grouchy brat that he’d end up with. So he returned to the kitchen, drank his tea, and ate his toast in silence. 

He decided to start in the living room, beginning with his desk. There really wasn’t much there. He moved on to the table next to his chair. He threw out a small stack of newspapers, took a stray mug to the sink, and dusted the table. John spotted his shoes under the chair and moved them over to the door. He looked around the room and realized that most of the clutter was Sherlock’s and he had no idea what to do with it all for fear of the wrath he’d encounter if he moved anything his lover deemed important.

He decided to move on to the kitchen. He started with the dishes. They were finished much more quickly than he’d expected. He tried to unclutter the table, but everything on it was related to one of Sherlock’s experiments. 

The doctor decided to try cleaning out the fridge. He managed to toss some old take away and the last of the leftover casserole Mrs. Hudson had brought them before she left to spend a few weeks with her sister. 

‘That’s why this place is such a mess,’ John thought. ‘Mrs. H hasn’t been around to not-so-secretly tidy up.’

The fridge was still packed, but everything left in it was stuff Sherlock would have to go through. John sighed. He was starting to notice a pattern here.

He peeked into the bathroom and sighed as his suspicions were confirmed. Nearly everything cluttering up the bathroom was Sherlock’s too.

John huffed. Why was he wasting his day off trying to clean up messes that weren’t even his? Sherlock was getting up. Now. 

Stomping into the bedroom, he made his way over to the bed and shook Sherlock. 

“Wha-?” Sherlock asked, rolling away from John.

“Sherlock get up,” John said firmly. 

Sherlock pulled the blanket up over his head and said nothing.

John’s pursed his lips and clinched his fists. He breathed for a moment before walking to the end of the bed and yanking the blanket completely off the naked man. 

Sherlock growled and twisted to look at the older man. 

“What the hell do you want, John?” 

John threw the blanket to the ground and said, “I want you to get your arse out of bed and go clean up your messes!” 

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sat up. “What are you on about?” 

“Your messes, Sherlock! The flat is a mess and it’s all your shit. I tried to clean the living room, but it’s covered in newspaper clipping and case files. I don’t know what you need and what I can get rid of. The kitchen is full to bursting with your experiments and lab equipment. And the bathroom counter is covered with your grooming products. Get up and help me clean the flat!” 

“No.” 

“Sherlock!” John yelled.

“No!” Sherlock shouted back.

John’s nostrils flared. He should have known better. Yelling at Sherlock never accomplished anything. It just made the stubborn man dig his heels in and refuse to yield. Sherlock was going to be a brat today. Luckily, Dr. Watson knew just what to do. 

“Sherlock,” John said calmly, “we really do have to get this place cleaned up. Will you be a good boy and come help me?” 

‘Good boy’. That phrase always stroked at Sherlock’s praise kink and got the detective’s attention. John had thought that it would help him convince Sherlock to come assist him. However, he was beginning to realize he hadn’t thought this out because the lust that took over Sherlock’s gaze sent a wave of heat directly to John’s groin. 

“I always want to be good for you,” Sherlock replied, “but cleaning is so boring. Can’t we find something else to do?” 

Sherlock lay back on the pillows and let his legs fall open. John’s eyes followed the line of his creamy thigh down to where Sherlock’s half-hard cock was on display. His mouth went dry.

“No, Sherlock,” he answered. His was proud of how controlled his voice sounded. “The flat can’t stay this messy. We do have to clean it.”

The younger man got up and crawled to the end of the bed. He rose up on his knees, looked at John, and pouted. “Can’t we do it later, John? Please? I want you. I need you to fuck me. The sooner the better.” 

And that was it. John was a goner and he knew it. However it didn’t mean he’d give in just yet. 

“I know you’re trying to distract me, pet.” John scolded, even as he reached out and gripped Sherlock’s hips. “It won’t work. We can either clean now or we can do it afterward, but we _will_ be cleaning this flat today.” 

“Yes, captain,” Sherlock whispered, leaning forward to graze his lips against John’s, “whatever you say. Now, will you please get your cock in my arse?” 

John groaned and darted forward to take sherlock’s mouth in a hard kiss. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John’s neck and nibbled at his bottom lip. John slid one hand between them to stroke Sherlock’s erection, drawing a lovely moan from his detective. 

“Lie down, pet,” John said. 

Sherlock flopped back and smiled up at the doctor. 

“Go on, Sherlock. Scoot all the way up. Head on the pillows.” 

The detective did as he was told and was rewarded with a grin from John. 

“Good boy,” John said as he pulled his shirt off. “You’re listening very well.”

Sherlock felt his cock growing harder under John’s praise. 

“Although,” John’s hands paused where they were unzipping his jeans. “you didn’t listen when I told you to get up and help me. You yelled at me and said no, actually. So maybe you don’t deserve this.” 

Sherlock’s eyes flew open wide. “John, no! Please! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please.” 

The older man chuckled. “Oh, you’re so pretty when you beg. How can I resist such a sweet boy?” He removed his jeans along with his pants and crawled on top of the Sherlock’s long, pale body. 

Slender fingers gripped John’s head and pulled him into a blistering kiss. He slipped is tongue between those lush lips and groaned when Sherlock began to suck on it. 

Pulling back, John started to rub his bum against Sherlock’s hard cock. “You’re so clever, love. So talented with that beautiful mouth of yours.” 

Sherlock’s eyes fluttered shut and he smiled at the praise. He began to roll his hips and grind on John’s arse.

“No, no, love,” John whispered, sliding down to kneel between Sherlock’s legs. “You said I could fuck you. Hand me the lube.”

Sherlock moved as quickly as he could to grab the bottle of lube off the nightstand. He thrust toward John. 

“Now lay down and relax for me, pet.”

Again, Sherlock did as John asked. John coated his fingers with lube and used his dry hand to stroke Sherlock’s leg.

“Ready, love?”

“Yes, John. Please!” Sherlock ground out through gritted teeth, screwing his eyes shut. 

John grinned and used one finger to stroke between Sherlock’s arsecheeks. He rubbed the little knot of muscle until it started to relax and he gently pressed inside.

Sherlock groaned, “Come on, John! I’m not made of glass!”

John slammed his finger the rest of the way in and relished the shout that came from the younger man. “Don’t be a brat, Sherlock, or I’ll stop altogether.” 

“No! No, please, don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.” Sherlock begged. 

“There’s my sweet boy. Do you want more?”

Sherlock nodded. 

“Can you ask nicely?” John asked, sliding his finger in and out. 

Sherlock met John’s eyes with a needy intensity. “Please, John? I need more. I need so much more. Please? I’ll be so good for you.”

“I know you will, love. You try so hard. I know it’s difficult for you, but when you behave well, I can reward you like this.” John added a second finger and sped up his thrusts.

Sherlock keened and pressed his hips down onto John’s fingers. John kissed and nipped along the inside of Sherlock’s thighs. He added third finger and pounded into the detective for several minutes.

“John, please. I need more. I need you. Will you-“ John aimed for Sherlock’s prostate and the younger man’s words cut off with a shout. 

“Yes, pet, whatever you need.” John answered. 

He removed his fingers and got up on his knees. He retrieved the bottle of lube and slicked himself with it before leaning forward and planting one hand beside Sherlock to hold himself up. Sherlock leaned up and kissed him as John used his free hand to guide his cock into Sherlock’s hole. 

Both men cried out when John sank into Sherlock. John was still for a bit, sure he would come if he moved at all. Eventually Sherlock began to wiggle his hips, encouraging John to move. John pulled back slowly and slammed in again, drawing a glorious moan from his beloved genius. The sound drove John on and he began fucking Sherlock in earnest, building up a frantic pace. 

It wasn’t very long before John could see that Sherlock was getting close. That was ok because John wasn’t going to last much longer either. He reached between then and gripped Sherlock’s cock. John stared at Sherlock as his wonderfully flushed face scrunched up and he panted in pleasure. 

“That’s it,” John said. “That’s my good boy. You’re so beautiful, Sherlock, so responsive to me. You’ve listened so well and you’ve behaved wonderfully. You’re such a sweet, perfect, clever pet. And you’re all mine. I’m so proud of you, so proud to call you mine.” 

With that Sherlock arched his back and came, shooting white, hot ribbons of onto his belly. The look of pleasure on his detective’s face was enough to send John over the edge. He pounded into Sherlock twice more before he was coming too, emptying himself into Sherlock’s tight, hot body.

John collapsed on top of his love, boneless and wiped out. Sherlock stroked his back and kissed his head. After several minutes John pulled out and rolled over. Sherlock leaned over the side of the bed and retrieved John’s pants from the floor. He used them to wipe off John and then cleaned himself up. He tossed the pants and snuggled up to his army doctor. 

“Thank you, John,” He whispered.

John smiled and wrapped an arm around Sherlock. “I haven’t forgotten about the cleaning, Sher.” 

“I didn’t expect you to,” the detective replied innocently. “But maybe it an wait until after we have a nap?” 

“Mmmm,,” John answered , already closing his eyes. “I suppose. But you’re not getting out of it.” 

“Of course not, captain.” 


End file.
